Author
Topic: Ogre Raid Two (Read 6999 times)

Boar almost wept as he watched the first ranks of warriors get wiped out by the lethal rain of metal missiles that the humans had discharged from the great air ships they had slyly positioned above the Horde. So much death and blood everywhere.... The only good thing that had come out of this was the death of Golden Eyes. He had never liked that cunning,conniving dirt bag.

Trust those hell spawned humans to cause great devastation through their sorcerous means,when they lacked the courage to fight the Horde face to face in honorable conflict! The day would come when the filth would pay dearly for the callous murder of so many of his people.. But first,he had to get in touch with the Fox and the rest of the War Chief's lieutenants. It was essential that they establish some kind of order if they were to prevent this from turning into a humiliating route. They had come too far to let that happen.

Grabbing a stunned kobold by the shoulder,Boar barked out a command to him. 'You,Uhsal! Get my message across to the Fox and ask the War Chief whether we press on still with our plans to take the nearest city. And if possible,get me information on the number of commanders killed in the blasts. I fear the humans have thinned the ranks of our leading warriors..''

Witha vigorous nod of his head,the fleet footed warrior rushed forth to carry out Boar's dictate. Watching the kobold vanish admist the chaos and carnage that raged all around,Boar gave a heavy sigh. It was time to light the funeral pyres.

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“I'm yet another resource-consuming kid in an overpopulated planet, raised to an alarming extent by Hollywood and Madison Avenue, poised with my cynical and alienated peers to take over the world when you're old and weak.” -Bill Watterson

Aisling awoke, her head pounding with the all too familiar ache of bitterwort, an herb commonly used to treat the injured. She gingerly felt of her scalp, and found only her own inch long hair. No bandages, no gaping head wounds. That was good, and since there were no singing voices and no pillar of light she was still in the land of the living. She sat up slowly, her body aching from being bedridden for at least a full day of not more. She was used to martial drills and lots of activity, not lazing about like a ne'er dowell.

"Congratulations," a nurse said, pausing to see one of her patients. "We were worried about you for a while there. You had a pretty nasty knock to head and all. King Graeme came earlier this morning and healing your injuries." she said with some awe in her voice.

"The...king?" Aisling whispered, shocked by the thought that she, a common born peasant, had been healed by the first and foremost sorcerer in the kingdom. "I am without words..."

"You are to be decorated this afternoon, along with the survivors of your gun crew. It's to be the Medal of Valour for you, and the King himself is presenting them. He was there at the last invasion from the ogres." she said like her patient was a patent fool.

*****The sun was a burning ember as she stood on the raised platform in the center of the city square. She was among six being awarded medals by the King himself. She felt herself puffed up with pride, knowing that in the next life her father would be terribly proud of her. She would offer incense at the family shrine when she returned home and tell her tale to the ancestors, that the King himself chosen of Kasmir had honored her, and her family. Her breath caught as he mounted the steps, he was taller than she expected, commanding a regal air about him. She knealed upon one knee, her right fist pressed above her heart.

"Rise valiant heros." Graeme said, "Rise and know thou art honored in the eyes of Caladin, Kasmir, and in my eyes." he said. She felt her throat tighten and her cheeks flush with heat, in a moment she knew that tears would stream down her face. She murmured a quick prayer that she not embarass herself in front of the King. It was a great honor, being the first woman awarded a medal of combat. She felt ready to burst with all the emotion bound up inside of her.

He placed the silver and black medal, shaped in the likeness of the Black Spear upon their breasts. He paused, looking at the wet streaks on her face. She felt shame to be shedding tears in such an unworthy fashion, like some weak and wastrel woman who wailed for no reason and tore at her hair over the slightest thing.

"Is this the only soldier here thus moved?" he asked, "None can doubt this soldier's courage, this soldier's conviction in the heat of bloody war. Let none look derisively upon this soldier for shedding a tear. Pride, joy, many reasons do we all weep. Let us not forget that." The crowd responded with thunderous applause. Graeme smiled at Aisling. The next battles would not be fought on Calan's doorstep, but it would be taken into the ogre's teeth.

A sudden chill swept through the air as Treger muttered the last words of the incantation that would free the beast they had created. The whole ship shook as his rooms broke free of the vessel and plummeted to the ground.

*****Redden Alt Mer hurried over to the side and looked with wonder at the sight the spread out below him. He had heard of their power, but had in all his years never seen one work. Below him lay the rooms of Kalm, but instead of being broken in bits, or even looking like the cancer they had while attached to the ship, there lay before him what looked like a giant wooden golem

*****Treger opened his eyes, and saw the ground, but not through his eyes, rather through his automationÃƒÂ¢Ã¢â€šÂ¬Ã¢â€žÂ¢s eyes. This beast, this marvel of magic and technology, unfortunately it demanded a great price for its use, but then it was made for war, and more impotently blood, anyway. So the cost of feeding it is, well, taken care of.

The hulk lifted its head up off the ground and stood up, a grown man only coming up to its knee. It turned its head toward the enemy ranks and charged off, throwing orgies up into the air with each swing of its arms, and consuming others by smashing them onto the symbol of life on its chest, and then it would throw away the empty shell that once held life, and blood.

What in the name of the ancestors was that horrid wooden construct that was going about crushing the life out of his men?! What kind of horror had the humans unleashed on them now? He had to stop it before the entire Horde gave into panic and started dissolving into terrified chaos.

'Get my bow ,some pith,and tinder!'' he bellowed to one of his warriors. The ogre summoned to do his bidding,wasted no time in getting all that Boar had demanded. Within moments,Boar had nocked an enormous arrow in his longbow,it's huge blunt head wrapped with blazing rags torn from his grimy sleeves. His keen eyes fixed on the misshapen form of the abomination as it seized yet another of his valiant warriors. Uttering a low growl,he let the arrow fly. It struct the golem square in the chest,right where it's symbol of life was positioned.

Like some demon borne of fire,the flames leapt up to consume the shambling construct of wood,devouring it's frame with the eagerness of a pack of wolves that had brought down a moose or elk.

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“I'm yet another resource-consuming kid in an overpopulated planet, raised to an alarming extent by Hollywood and Madison Avenue, poised with my cynical and alienated peers to take over the world when you're old and weak.” -Bill Watterson

Fools! They thought they could burn this wonderful animatronic down with mere fire! Ha! They donÃƒÂ¢Ã¢â€šÂ¬Ã¢â€žÂ¢t understand, do they? Thought Treger as he saw, and felt, more arrows hit. As long as he kept feeding it, it was immortal. By the Magus Himself, I will destroy them, and retake what has been lost!

The Vingilot, rebuilt from the wreckage of the first invasion hung well above the battlefield. She wouldnt stand up against the boulders and ballistas of the ogres, and she lacked the cannon of newer ships like Jacob's Doom. Graeme surveyed the battlefield below. One of the mad creations of his sorcerers was making a bloody mess of itself, crushing ogres in it's wooden hands. Was this the power and grandeur of Kasmir of old?

Somehow he doubted it. The old iconography depicted the Kasmiri as being tall and clad in bright mail, and armed with cunning and powerful weapons. Automatons and golems were rare, and those that did exist seemed to have been limited to servant and construction roles. It was likely that there had been war golems, but he was equally sure that none would have survived the Judgement of the Gods. He would have to make sure that his kingdom didnt become blinded by its own power, become victim to the same hubris that humbled Kasmir of old.

"This is mindless slaughter, there is no honor in it." Graeme said.

"The ogres dont fight with, or for honor." Aisling said, a hardness in her voice. She felt out of place speaking, let alone being on the King's personal craft. "They hack the bodies of the wounded into pieces, they boil the flesh of our dead and eat it. Many still wake in cold sweats thinking of the carnage that occured on their march to Calan. How many thousands of lives ended because of them. Let them know fear, let them suffer milord. Let that horror treat them as they have treated us."

"I will not argue with your emotions. The fact is that we cannot, and will not stoop to the level of the ogres. I wished to make peace with them, yet they desire it not. If they wish war, they will have it, but we will fight as humans, with honor and dignity, and for something greater than our own personal glory." Graeme said, still watching the horror unfold below. Flame charred and burned the wooden hulk, but with each crushed corpse, it retarded the flames. Perhaps, once the ogres were all slain, the flame would consume it. Somehow, the thought didnt bother him.

For the first time since he had been raised tot he position of a commander,Boar felt the cold talons of fear and uncertainty sink into his heart. The flames raging around the wooden abombination seemed to have no effect whatsoever on the horrid thing. To his horror,with each warrior that was crushed in it's maloveant grip,the fire enveloping it actually seemed to die down slowly,flame by flame.

He had to aim for the eyes! If he couldn't destroy it,he could at least blind it to keep it from inflicting any more death that it already had. Taking careful aim,he discharged two arrows in quick succession. The first hit the vacant orb positioned in it's right socket,and a couple of seocnds later,the same fate befell the left one. Rising to his full height of eleven feet,Boar roared his defiance to his seemingly invincible foe. ''Slay you I may not,but blind you I certainly shall! The son of Crazy Hawk fears no skulking wizard,nor any toy of his!''

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“I'm yet another resource-consuming kid in an overpopulated planet, raised to an alarming extent by Hollywood and Madison Avenue, poised with my cynical and alienated peers to take over the world when you're old and weak.” -Bill Watterson